


Infinitesimal

by the_drarry_life



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Asexual Harry Potter, Auror Harry Potter, Blaise and Luna are together for like two minutes i swear, Boys Kissing, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is an oblivious little shit but what else is new, Homophobia, Humor, I don't regret it, I made so many people gay, M/M, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Rape/Non-con, Sex Worker Draco Malfoy, except he says sike and dips outta that real quick, for the sake of 1 cute scene i really wanted Draco is like two (2) inches shorter than Harry, lee runs a coffee shop and george runs a joke shop i love them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_drarry_life/pseuds/the_drarry_life
Summary: Infinitesimal (noun): A word that seems very large, but in fact means extremely small, proof that not all things are as they seem.Or: Harry is an asexual clueless bean who wants nothing more than to develop cures, and Draco is a sex worker with far too much trauma and a passion for potions, and they come to know each other through the language of spells, potions, dates that aren't really dates, and halfhearted insults.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lee Jordan/George Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood/Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 44
Kudos: 169





	1. Outside is Cold and Malfoy is Hot

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I just want to let you guys know that this book does, in fact, contain mentions of past trauma and rape/abuse. If you can't handle that, I totally understand, maybe this book isn't for you. 
> 
> If you're still willing to read this, welcome to the chaotic mess that is Infinitesimal.

The night is cold, _storm-is-coming_ cold. Frigid, wet leaves fall from trees. One lands on the back of Harry's neck, a reminder of the past few exceedingly rainy nights.

It's not the kind of cold that has you irritated and constantly miserable, but the kind that lets up a bit at a time and lets you forget about it, before one stray raindrop falls from the sky or a particularly cold breeze sways you, or you look at the sky and see the grey clouds residing there, and then you shiver, feeling chilled right down to the bone.

Harry is sure it will rain soon, but his Apparation point is another half-mile away. It's his own fault, really, for not using the Ministry Apparation points. If he had, he would be home right now, but instead, he had waved Ron off and said he wanted to take a walk.

Which had been true until that freezing cold leaf had fallen onto his neck, and now Harry shivers and regrets not just following his usual pattern and using the Ministry Apparation points. He resolves to never make that decision again.

His eyes are downcast, focused on the ground he's walking on instead of the area behind him. It's not the best practice for an Auror, but Harry has exceptional hearing and figures if someone does try to attack him (unlikely), he would get enough warning to fight back.

There is a small shuffling sound ahead of him and Harry glances up, pausing in his walk to view the figure before him.

Platinum blonde, curly hair obstructs the man's face from view. In fact, Harry's not entirely sure this person is a man, they seem very androgynous. Their delicate frame leans back against the pole behind them, a lit cigarette in one hand, the other hand falling at their side.

That's not what catches Harry's attention though. That would be the outfit.

The person is wearing a sheer black t-shirt that stops midway down their toned stomach, paired with a short, tight black skirt and fishnet stockings, topped off with tall black heels. Harry is tempted to assume this person, who he's now starting to realize might be a sex worker, is female, especially given the skirt, but he knows from years of friendship with one Blaise Zabini that one can wear a skirt and _definitely_ still be a man.

Nevertheless, whether this person is or is not a female (or, for that matter, is or is not a sex worker) is irrelevant to Harry, because his only real goal right now is to get to the Apparation point, and, consequently, home.

Unfortunately for one Harry James Potter, things are never just that simple for him, and instead, after exactly twelve more steps, he glances to the right and freezes when he realizes he's looking right into the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy's eyebrows shoot up. _"Potter?"_

"Malfoy." Harry does his absolute best to not show any emotion on his face. He has a strong impression he's failing miserably.

Malfoy blinks. Once. Twice. One of his eyebrows lowers, but the other remains raised in curiosity, something Harry doesn't recall Malfoy being able to do.

"Potter, what on Earth are you doing walking down a street popular for its sex workers?"

"I... I really didn't know that it is. I was going to my Apparation point. Wait, you're a...?" Harry can't bring himself to say the word. A flush crosses his face.

"A prostitute? Obviously. And there are Apparation points in the Ministry, unless you don't work there anymore." All traces of shock have erased themselves from Malfoy's face. It sort of upsets Harry, because he's quite sure he himself still looks like a gaping fish.

"I do. Still work there, it is, I'm still an Auror."

"Shame." Malfoy blows a ring of smoke into the air, and Harry's grateful he doesn't blow it right in Harry's face like Harry had half-expected him to. "You'd be a lovely prostitute. You're very attractive, and the opportunity to sleep with the Saviour of the Wizarding World? You'd make more money than the Malfoy and Potter vaults combined."

Harry immediately leans back a bit, as though trying to distance himself from the conversation. "Not a chance."

"Right." Malfoy grins a bit then, and it's half-bitter and half-amused. "I forgot the Chosen One would never stoop so low."

Harry wants to tell him that that's not it, but it's not worth it. _Malfoy's not worth it._

"How did you end up here?" he asks instead, gesturing around them.

Malfoy shrugs. He drops the cigarette on the ground and crushes it under one black heel. "I was a Death Eater, so I was ostracized from Wizarding society, I'm gay, so my father kicked me out, and I have no money, so I started doing the one thing I'm good at."

At the mention of his former Death Eater status, Harry's eyes immediately dart to Malfoy's left arm where the Dark Mark lays, stark black against alabaster skin.

Malfoy doesn't try to hide it or yell at Harry for staring. Instead, he glances down at the brand as well, a bitter look on his face. "At least it's good for business. Muggles think it's cool as fuck."

Harry stares at him for a long time before Malfoy sighs irritably. "Spit it out, Potter. You've got a million questions written all over your face. You look stupid."

"You're gay?" is somehow the first question Harry falls on.

"Yes. Good question. Top-notch, really cleared things up, especially since I explicitly stated that I am not even five minutes ago."

"How is sex the only thing you're good at?"

Malfoy scoffs. "No thanks, you're not unlocking Dark Tragic Past of the Evil Villian Enemy. We're not friends. Next question."

 _You're not a villain, and you haven't been my enemy in three years._ "You fuck Muggles?"

"I fuck anyone who pays me."

"Even women?"

"Even women."

"But you don't like women," Harry states, and he's starting to feel like they're going in circles.

"I also don't like dodgy Ministry officials who have wives, but money is money, and I have rent to pay."

"I thought you hate Muggles."

"My father hates Muggles, and I looked up to my father. But a body is a body, magic or not, and money is money."

"So... you _don't_ hate Muggles?"

Malfoy sighs heavily. "No, Potter, _fuck,_ I don't hate Muggles. Are you happy? Can you go now?"

Harry doesn't go, and he's not quite sure why. Three years of not seeing the boy has left him with a bitter taste in his mouth at the sudden meeting, but he's intrigued by the blonde, former Death Eater or not.

Malfoy stares at him for a moment. "Unless... you know what you're doing here?"

"Going home," Harry responds automatically. He still doesn't move.

Malfoy pushes away from the pole, taking one step forward. His heel clicks on the ground, a soft but jarring sound that makes Harry want to immediately snap it off.

"Why do you wear heels?"

"Men love to pretend I'm a girl. They like to think that if I'm dressed like one, it'll somehow ensure their heterosexuality." Malfoy studies him, grey eyes flicking back and forth between Harry's. "Why are you here, Potter?"

"I'm going home."

"Are you?" Malfoy's hand is suddenly on his shoulder. Harry doesn't move away. The hand trails down his arm. "Because I know for a fact that you haven't had a real relationship since you and Ginevra split up, and I also know you came out as bisexual a year ago, and I _also_ know you have a fuckton of money, and a penchant for going on dates with pretty blonde boys."

Harry is getting a very strong notion of where this is going and Malfoy is standing much closer than before, looking at Harry through his eyelashes in a way that is very pretty and confuses Harry quite a bit, because he's quite sure if he were to attempt the same thing, he would look psychotic.

Malfoy's hand travels to Harry's waist, and Harry pulls back immediately, several alarms going off in his head, the main one being _I don't want to fuck Draco Malfoy._

He's sure his immediate horror is shown on his face, because the sultry look on Malfoy's face immediately hardens, and the blonde steps back.

"N-no, no thank you," he stutters out, mentally slapping himself. His skin is positively _crawling_.

"I almost forgot that too," Malfoy bites out, smooth voice gone and replaced with steel. "You would never stoop as low as to fuck a Death Eater, or a prostitute for that matter. You could have anyone, why would you bother with someone like me?"

Harry opens his mouth to tell Malfoy that that's not it, he's fucking _asexual,_ but Malfoy's eyes flick to a spot over Harry's shoulder and he walks past him, approaching a tall brunette who looks at Malfoy like he wants to eat him.

Malfoy places a hand on the boy's shoulder and the boy murmurs something low, and Malfoy grins wickedly before pulling the boy away to God-knows-where.

Feeling quite unsettled, Harry walks to his Apparation point and goes home.


	2. Ron Gets Laid (that's not what the chapter is about, but he deserves it anyway)

Harry feels a little more dead inside every time he walks into the Ministry.

He doesn't understand how people enjoy coming here. The walls are a flat grey that makes the whole building feel like a prison. The air feels cold. Not crisp, just cold. There is paperwork everywhere, in at least three offices a day people are screaming at each other, the coffee is shit, and Robards is a dick Head Auror.

He doesn't understand how Hermione enjoys being Minister in a building that looks so much like the dungeons in Hogwarts, perhaps with a few more lights. He doesn't understand how Ron enjoys being an Auror and being sent to faraway countries to fight people that just remind Harry of the war. He doesn't understand how Blaise enjoys finding the horrible curses people place on buildings and objects and transferring them into little vials to be tested and repurposed. 

He signed up to be an Auror because he thought he would feel like he was saving lives, but instead, all he feels is the weight of the ones he couldn't save.

The incident with Malfoy is pushed to the back of his mind as he sits at his desk, matching his partner's grin as he shuffles his papers.

"Any new cases?"

"You know, if you came here on time, you would be briefed and I wouldn't have to tell you."

"But then we would never talk," Harry says dramatically. "My best friends are so in love that they have no time for _poor Harry Potter-"_

"Shut up!" Ron laughs. "We had you over for dinner three days ago!"

"Three days too long Ronniekins. Any new cases?"

"Other than Martha Calkins on floor 3 insisting that her supplies are moved slightly more to the left every morning, no."

"It's fair that she thinks that, because I'm the one moving them," Blaise says, dropping into the chair next to Ron. 

"May I ask why?" Ron inquires, raising his eyebrows. 

"She stole my stapler. I'm sure of it."

"No, that would be me," Luna says lightly, drifting into the room and planting a light kiss on her boyfriend's cheek. "It's so much prettier than the others. I like the gems you stuck on it."

Blaise gives her a warm smile. "Then you can keep it, love."

Harry, personally, isn't even sure Luna works in the Ministry. He and Ron had spent one long, drunk night speculating it for hours, and they came to the conclusion that they're 62% sure that Luna is an Unspeakable, and 38% sure she works at Lee's cafe. She just shows up at both. Sometimes she helps solve cases, sometimes she serves them food, sometimes she lays on the floor of the office, telling them that they're all wrong and refusing to elaborate, instead waiting until they realize that they are, in fact, wrong.

"We've got a new intern," Blaise says brightly. Luna plops herself on his lap, and he wraps an arm casually around her waist as though habit. "Sixteen years old. His name's Gabriel Valerez. Real quiet, but real helpful. Offered to take my papers to floor 4 for me."

"Sixteen?" Ron asks, surprised. "How did Hogwarts let him over here?"

"Special request from me," Blaise says brightly. "Being the best Curse-Breaker in the department has its perks."

"You're not the best, you're just the loudest," Ron grumbles, and Blaise smacks the back of his head. _"Ow_. Sixteen's a bit young to work in the Ministry, still."

“Well, you know how we were at sixteen," Harry says. "Breaking the law, creating secret plots, sneaking out of the school, committing treason. Teenage stuff." 

Blaise blinks. "Sometimes I forget you're the Saviour of the Wizarding World and not just the idiot who pours six sugars in his coffee and apologizes to the inanimate objects he runs into."

"The plant didn't deserve to be kicked!" Harry protests.

"You weren't looking where you were walking!" Blaise cries. "It's a fucking _plant!"_

"I'm telling Neville you said that," Harry replies in a taunting voice, the same way a child would say _'I'm telling Mom!'._

The blood drains out of Blaise's face. "You wouldn't."

Harry shoots a finger gun at him. "Don't test me, Zabini. You might be the best Curse-Breaker, but I'm the second-best Auror and I'll kick your ass."

There's a light knock on the door, and Theodore Nott opens it, giving a warm smile to Luna and a cool look to everyone else. "Auror Weasley, Minister Granger wishes to see you."

"Have I done something wrong?" Ron immediately starts muttering anniversaries under his breath.

"No, I suspect she just wants you to shag her over her desk," Theo replies dryly. "You know how she gets when she passes a new law."

Ron lights up. "See ya, boys!" he shouts, standing. "And girl, sorry Luna. Harry, check my cases. Don't give me that look. _Adios!"_

He dashes off and Harry rolls his eyes. "Dumbass."

"Like you're any less of one," Blaise comments, and Harry throws a pen at his head.

****************

It's been three days since Harry had walked to the Apparation point across town instead of using the ones at the Ministry, and he's tempted to do it again, despite his earlier resolution to never make the same decision.

It has nothing to do with the mild curiosity of whether he'll see Malfoy again.

Shut up.

Whether or not he's walking down this street again because he wants to see Malfoy (definitely _not_ , by the way) is irrelevant, however, because he's already made the decision and he's halfway down the street as you read this.

And sure enough, Draco Malfoy leans against the same pole as before. His shirt is a loose black tank top stopping mid-stomach now, but the rest of his outfit remains the same as before.

And this time, he sees Harry before Harry can approach him.

His expression immediately falls into something almost irritated, and he snaps his head forward, pointedly staring ahead. A shiver runs through Harry as he continues to walk toward the blonde, and he decides it's going to rain very soon.

"Aren't you cold?" he asks, keeping his tone decidedly more friendly than before.

"Why would you care?" Malfoy replies frostily, but Harry is close enough to see the goosebumps on his arms now. He feels the inexplicable urge to hug the other boy, if only to warm him up, but he refrains.

"It's gonna rain."

"Fascinating observation."

"Are you just going to stand here in the rain?"

Malfoy glares at him for a long moment. "I was kicked out of my apartment. I need to make enough to find somewhere to stay."

"Why were you kicked out?"

"It was a Wizard-occupied building."

"So?"

Malfoy sighs heavily, like Harry is seriously getting on his nerves. He holds out his left arm, showing Harry the brand inked onto it. "Wizards know what _this_ is. I managed to Glamour it for a while, but I got drugged two nights ago and wasn't thinking straight enough, and my landlord saw it."

"You were _drugged?"_ Harry asks, horrified.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "You're holding up business, Potter. Go away."

"Who's to say I'm not here to pay for your services?"

Malfoy doesn't even bother with a look of disbelief. "You would never fuck a whore, and definitely not me. You practically ripped me off of you last time, I'm not playing this game again."

"How much?"

Malfoy stiffens. "For what?" he asks through gritted teeth.

Harry casts a Tempus charm and is pleased to see it's almost ten p.m. exactly. "One night. Twelve hours."

"Are you just gonna mock me, Potter? Go away."

"How much for a whole night?" Harry repeats.

Malfoy clenches his law for a long time before he spits out "Six hundred Galleons."

Harry shrugs. "Alright."

Malfoy stares at him for a long time. "No. No, I can't do this. Keep your money."

"I'll double it."

Malfoy was starting to turn away, but at Harry's words, he spins back around, eyes wide. 

"One thousand two hundred Galleons," he says slowly. "You're going to give me one thousand two hundred Galleons."

"Yep. For one night. Twelve hours. Until ten tomorrow."

Malfoy looks worried for a second, but the need for money seems to overpower his worries, and his shoulders relax. He's still frowning. "Fine. Where do you want to go?"

"Are you okay with going back to mine?"

"It's not about what I want."

Harry doesn't like the way Malfoy says that. "Alright. C'mon, let's walk to the Apparation point."

"Does this count as some of your time?"

Harry shrugs. "Sure."

Malfoy stares at him for a long moment before following him to the Apparation point. When they finally reach it, Harry holds out a hand to Malfoy. Malfoy looks at him for another moment before he takes it slowly, and Harry Apparates them to Grimmauld Place.

"This is the Black house," Malfoy breathes in recognition. "It looks different."

Harry turns away from Malfoy to look around with a faint smile. "My godfather gave it to me when he died. I've renovated a bit. I'm not done, but the Aurors keeps most of my time, so I don't get to do much."

"Right." Malfoy's speech suddenly seems more stilted, tense. Harry turns, confused, to face him.

Malfoy has a sort of glazed, dead look in his eyes that almost wouldn't be noticeable if Harry didn't know him so well. He looks like he's dissociating as he slowly sinks to his knees in front of Harry, reaching for the button on his jeans.

"Whoa, whoa, wait!" Harry says, surprised. He grabs Malfoy's arm and pulls him up. The dissociating look fades way for confusion to take its place. "Let's have drinks first."

"You're weird, Potter," Malfoy decides. Harry doesn't disagree with him. Instead, he just leads Malfoy to the kitchen. 

"Would you prefer Firewhiskey or something Muggle?" he asks, opening his alcohol cabinet. 

"Do you have tequila?" Malfoy asks, peering around his shoulder before snatching the golden bottle of tequila off the middle shelf and hugging it to his chest. "Fuck yes."

Harry snorts, grabbing two shots glasses and watching Malfoy pour them. He grabs one and downs it without hesitation, letting the burn of alcohol rise in his throat. He relishes in the feeling.

Malfoy downs his too, and he suddenly looks uncomfortable and awkward again. "So now-"

"I'm hungry," Harry decides, opening his fridge. "You?"

Malfoy blinks. "Pardon?"

"Hungry. You know, the need for food? I'm thinking enchiladas. Thoughts?"

"Potter, what in the _fuck_ are you doing?"

"Well, I _thought_ I was gathering the ingredients for enchiladas, but based on the way you're looking at me, I'm trying to stuff a baby armadillo into an Easy-Bake Oven."

Malfoy blinks several more times. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Enchiladas," Harry replies simply, gathering more ingredients and preheating his oven. "Wanna help? Or you could shower or watch some TV while you wait if you want."

"Or I could suck your cock. Which you _paid_ for."

"Maybe later," Harry hums. "You seem to forget I have eleven and a half hours with you. Go have fun. Explore if you want."

Malfoy stands absolutely still for a solid minute before he speaks.

"Where's your bathroom? I think I'll take a shower."

"Third door on the left down that hall," Harry says, leaning back to see the hallway around the kitchen wall and pointing. "Right across from the door is a closet with towels and washcloths. Use whatever you please."

Malfoy still looks confused as he leaves the kitchen. Harry hides his smile.

When Malfoy comes back forty-five minutes later with wet curly hair and the same clothes as before, Harry is leaning against the counter sipping white wine and waiting for his timer to be done.

"I'm sorry," he says, setting his glass down in a rush. "I didn't even offer you clothes! You must be freezing, coming out of a shower and putting on that outfit!"

Malfoy blinks. "I don't have anything else to wear, Potter, my landlord threw all my stuff out."

A spike of fury shoots through Harry before he grabs Malfoy's hand and drags him up the stairs.

"I thought we were gonna have dinner before we fuck," Malfoy says, sounding oddly disappointed.

"I'm getting you clothes, idiot." Harry tugs the blonde into his room and shuffles through his drawers until he finds what he's looking for and holds it up triumphantly. "Aha!"

"A sweatshirt?" Malfoy looks unimpressed. "Hardly worth the theatrics."

"My favorite sweatshirt," Harry corrects. "Plus, it's green, so you can still represent Slytherin." He tosses it to Malfoy before shuffling through his bottom drawer. 

"You're lending me your favorite sweatshirt?" Malfoy mutters in disbelief. 

"Yeah. It's warm and soft as fuck. There we go." He tugs out a pair of soft grey sweatpants with a green stripe up the side that matches the color of the sweatshirt perfectly. He tosses them to Malfoy too, and the blonde almost stumbles as he catches it. "They even match, so I don't offend your delicate fashion sense."

Malfoy frowns at him for a long moment. "The sweatshirt has your name on the back of it."

"So? You're only wearing it here anyway." Harry shrugs and lights up when he hears a _ding._ "That's my timer! Pants and socks are in the drawer if you want them, I'll be in the kitchen!" He darts out of the room, nothing on his mind but enchiladas.

After five minutes of cooling and plating the enchiladas, Harry looks up as Malfoy walks into the kitchen, and his heart stutters to a complete stop.

Harry thinks he's about two inches taller than Malfoy, something he should have factored in when he offered the boy clothes, because the sleeves of the sweatshirt are just slightly too long and cover half of Malfoy's hands, which are dangling awkwardly at his sides. Malfoy is also significantly thinner than Harry, since Harry has the build of someone who's been through the vigorous Auror training and Malfoy has the build of someone who's been starving for three years, so the sweatshirt is quite baggy on him.

He looks fucking _adorable_.

"Enchiladas?" Harry says, hoping his voice isn't too hoarse as he holds out a plate and a glass of white wine.

Malfoy takes both and sits at the dining room table just outside the kitchen. Harry takes three deep breaths, grabs his food, and follows him.

He casts a spell and soft music plays throughout the room. Malfoy gives him a questioning look. Harry shrugs.

"I hate awkward silence," he explains, and Malfoy just nods and takes a bite before his eyes go wide.

"Good?" Harry asks, smiling. 

Malfoy stares at him. "Despite how much I loathe to compliment you, Potter, this is without a doubt, the _best_ enchilada I've ever had."

"I'm glad you like it. I found an old cookbook of my mom's in the remains of our old house when I visited a few years ago. She was a great cook." Harry smiles at the enchiladas in front of him. "It makes me feel more connected to her."

"That's beautiful," Malfoy says softly. He immediately freezes and he sneers, looking ready to spit out an insult to cover his weakness, but Harry holds up a hand.

"Don't. Leave it at that. We're having a nice moment, don't ruin it."

Malfoy pauses and nods, and they finish their meals in silence.

As Harry stands and started clearing the dishes, Malfoy starts to get that glazed, dissociating look that Harry starts to think he gets whenever he has to do something sexual.

"Can we just chill for a bit?" he asks lightly. "If you're comfortable with it, we can go watch some TV in my room. I'm kinda tired."

"I can leave," Malfoy says quietly. Harry shakes his head.

"Ten a.m. tomorrow," he says. "That's when you're leaving."

Malfoy swallows and nods, following Harry up the stairs to his room. Harry moves to turn on the TV, and when he smiles at his success and turns back around, he realizes Malfoy is still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Fuck's sake, Malfoy, lay down. I'm not gonna yell at you if you sit, Merlin." To demonstrate his point, Harry flops dramatically on the bed. He's sure he's only messed up his hair more. He doesn't particularly care.

Malfoy sits much more carefully, ridged and careful and afraid, making sure no part of his body touches Harry.

Harry relaxes into the pillows and hits Malfoy lightly on the chest. "Relax, jackass. Watch TV with me."

Malfoy frowns again, getting that contemplative look, but he scoots down more to relax against the pillows. Harry smiles and rests his head on Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy stiffens at first before his head tilts toward Harry and Harry realizes that Malfoy is resting his head against Harry's.

Within minutes, they're both asleep.


	3. Ron Goes OFF

Harry awakes to a silver Jack Russell terrier shouting at him to come to the Ministry.

Malfoy sits up instantly, looking terrified and ready to run. Harry notices he doesn't reach for his wand the way Harry had, and a moment later, he realizes Malfoy has no wand to reach.

Resolving to think about that later, Harry casts a quick Tempus and discovers that it's six in the morning. He groans irritably, rolling out of bed and yanking his pajama pants off.

"What in the fuck are you doing?" Malfoy squeaks. Harry gives him a slightly irritable look, yanking the closest pair of jeans on and pulling his shirt over his head.

"Ron sent his Patronus. Blaise's got himself in a bad situation because he's a fucking idiot, and I need to come to the Ministry. Sorry for waking you."

Malfoy stares at him. "Is Blaise going to be okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I won't let anything happen to him." Harry finally finds a shirt and pulls it on, grabbing his wand and searching for socks. He grabs his card off of the dresser and tosses it at Malfoy. "Here, it's connected to my Gringotts vault, the goblins will bring you your money, just tell them Harry Potter sent you and he owes you twelve hundred dollars, give 'em the card."

Maloy stares at him. "You just handed me access to your Gringotts vault."

"Yep." Harry yanks his socks on.

"I could empty your whole vault."

"Eh."

"So why are you giving me the card?" Malfoy lifts it, the silver object glinting in the sunlight. "And you don't owe me twelve hundred, it's not ten a.m."

"You won't empty out my vault. And let's just say you owe me four hours. I'll send you a Patronus to come over." Harry pulls on his shoes. 

"Potter-"

"You can use my Floo, you saw where my living room is. I'm sorry I can't stay, but it is an emergency."

"Potter-"

Harry double checks that he's got everything. "I'll send you a Patronus!" he calls as he rushes out the door and down the stairs.

"Potter, where are my  _ clothes?" _

"Wear mine until you come back!" he shouts, throwing Floo powder into the fireplace and Flooing to the Ministry.

"What's happened?" he asks before he's even fully out of the Floo.

Ron grabs his arm, pulling him toward their office. "We were finished with our raid with that new group of people trying to eradicate the reformed Death Eaters, and I think he saw something upstairs in the house, because he looked real upset. He told me to stay there, and he didn't come back." Ron is paler than usual and frantically shoves papers to the side. "I noted the time, he's been missing an hour, and-"

"Ron," Harry says gently. "Slow down, we'll find him."

Ron tugs his hands through his hair, finally stopping his frantic movements. "He's my  _ partner, _ Harry. He is the only Curse-Breaker I take with me, and he's one of my best friends, and if I had just gone _with him-"_

"Ron." Harry wraps an arm around his friend's shoulders. "We'll find him. He's not a Death Eater, never was. What would they want with him?"

Ron nods, taking a deep breath. "Right. Right. Okay." He thinks for a minute. "He used to be friends with Malfoy, maybe they want to know where that git is."

Harry pales. 

Ron frowns. "What is it? I'm sure we can find Malfoy." He lights up. "We can find Malfoy and offer a trade and catch them in the act!"

"Malfoy just left my house," Harry says softly.

Ron stares. "Beg your pardon?"

"He's-" Harry runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck. He's a sex worker, and I paid for a night-"

"You _what?!"_

"I paid for a night-"

"I thought you're asexual? And it's _Draco fucking Malfoy!"_

"I am, but he doesn't know that, and I didn't tell him because I figured he'd refuse. He took a shower and I gave him some clothes and we ate and fell asleep. We still had four hours, but you called so I said I'd Patronus him and he could use my Floo, and-" He sighs. "Okay. Okay, he's probably gone to Gringotts, and-"

"Why would he go there?"

"Gave him my card and told him to transfer money from my vault."

Ron looks shocked. "Harry, you can't tell him to do that, he's Draco fucking Malfoy!"

"So? He can't steal from me, the card only-"

"No, the  _ Gringotts goblins. _ They're not going to-"

Ron is cut off by an alarm sounding on Harry's wand. They both look up, alarmed.

_ "Fuck," _ Harry says, and they both bolt for the Floo and go to Gringotts.

"Thief!" the goblins are screaming as they tear the card from Malfoy's hands while several more grab his arms. "Liar! Death Eater!"

_ "Stop it!" _ Harry shouts, rushing forward and grabbing his card from one of the goblins. "I  _ gave _ it to him, why wouldn't one of you just send me a Patronus and  _ ask?" _

"Why would Mr. Potter give a Death Eater scum his card to his vault?" one of the goblins asks suspiciously, hand relaxing on Malfoy's wrist, which Malfoy yanks away with a scowl.

"Why does it matter?" Harry argues. He grabs Malfoy's free arm and pulls the blonde behind him. He sees Ron hold onto Malfoy, despite the fact that Malfoy obviously wants to leave. "That's none of your business, you could have simply  _ asked _ me instead of assuming he was stealing.  _ Merlin _ . I'd like to transfer twelve hundred Galleons to Draco Malfoy's account."

"The Death Eater scum does not have an account here," the goblin bites out. Harry sees Malfoy flinch, and Ron's hand lets go of Malfoy's arm and instead protectively wraps around the blonde's shoulders.

"Then I'd like to open an account for him."

"The Death Eater scum doesn't deserve anything here. We will not have him storing his dirty money here."

Harry doesn't let his fury show. "Ron, Hermione opened a second Wizarding bank over in Belgium, didn't she? What was it called?"

"Argentaria." He can hear the amusement in Ron's voice.

"Right. I'd like to remove all of my funds and close my account here. I will be moving all of my funds to Argentaria bank."

The goblin freezes. "Mr. Potter, you can't!"

"I can. And I fear that, _oh no,_ if the Saviour of the Wizarding World doesn't support Gringotts, if he supports _Argentaria,_ other people will start to follow!"

Harry usually hates using his fame to get what he wants, but right now Ron is biting back a grin and Malfoy is staring at Harry in wonder and the goblins are scattering, save for the one in front of him.

"Come with me," he grumbles, and leads the trio to a desk. "What is your full name, Death Eater?"

"Stop calling him that," Ron says, and Harry and Malfoy both stare at him in surprise. Ron doesn't look at either of them, cold eyes still on the goblin. "Are you aware that there is a terrorist group murdering former Death Eaters in cold blood?"

Malfoy stiffens in surprise. The goblin shows no indication that this is a surprise to him. "I am."

"Are you aware that you're implicating yourself to be a member of that group by showing clear prejudice against someone who has done nothing dark other than being forced to take the mark?" Ron continues, and if Ron wasn't happily married, Harry would fucking kiss him.

He might anyway, he's 98% sure Hermione wouldn't care.

"I'm not a member of their group, Auror Weasley," the goblin says, clearly offended.

"Then call him by his name," Ron replies firmly.

"Malfoy, what is-"

_ "Mr. _ Malfoy," Harry corrects. "This is a place of business, treat everyone equally, or _some_ Aurors might think you're being discriminatory, and if you'll remember, Minister Granger has discrimination punishable by up to three months in Azkaban."

The goblin scowls and spits out his words with clear distaste. _ "Mr. _ Malfoy, what is your full, legal name?"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, but I've been disowned, so I suppose it's really just Draco now." 

The goblin scribbles _Draco Lucius Malfoy_ onto the paper. "Wand?"

"I don't have one."

"We can't-"

"For fuck's sake,  _ yes you can!" _ Ron explodes. "You've got two fucking Aurors standing right here backing this fucker up, just open the fucking account and transfer the fucking money, because we have a case we need him for, and if you waste any more of my goddamn time I'm arresting you for obstruction of justice! It's not that fucking _hard,_ you opened mine in thirty seconds!"

The goblin stares, but when Ron's glare grows colder, the goblin quickly yanks open a drawer and pulls out a key. "Vault 1453," he says coolly. "Mr. Potter, we will transfer the funds as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Harry says, taking the key and grabbing Malfoy's arm, pulling him toward the Floo with Ron following closely behind.

As soon as they appear in the Ministry, Malfoy freezes. "Weasley, why did you say you need me for a case?"

Harry tugs him into their office, slamming the door shut. "Blaise has been kidnapped."

"By the people who kill Death Eaters?" Malfoy guesses. Ron nods. "Why do they want Blaise? He was never a Death Eater."

"But you were," Ron says quietly. "And Blaise was your friend."

"You're gonna trade me to them," Malfoy whispers, face going even paler.  _ "That's _ why you invited me over, Potter, it wasn't for sex, you were planning to give me to them!"

"Don't be fucking stupid," Harry mutters. "We're gonna make them  _ think _ we're selling you to them, and we'll ambush them and get Blaise. We don't trade people, and I'm not two-faced or a murderer."

Malfoy flushes, ducking his head. "Sorry," he mutters, and if it weren't for the surprised look on Ron's face, Harry would have thought he imagined it.

"It's alright," Harry replies when he finds his voice again. "I would have thought the same thing too."

"We need Ministry approval," Ron says. "It could take ages."

"We're not waiting for Robards to approve this," Luna replies, storming in. "If he doesn't tell them, they could kill him as collateral!"

Ron immediately pales. "No," he whispers. 

"They're not killing my boyfriend, not when I didn't even get a chance to break up with him yet," Luna grumbles. "So can we just grab blondie and go?"

"Go where?" Harry asks.

"For a walk, of course!" Luna says brightly. Then she cocks her head. "Draco, darling, why does your sweatshirt have Harry's name on it?"

Malfoy flushes. "He lent it to me."

"No, I'm glad she mentioned it," Harry says. "We can't have you wearing that. You can come back to mine and change. Ron, Luna, you two should come too."

"Goodie!" Luna exclaims. "I love your house, it's Nargle-free."

Harry cracks a smile as they walk across the room to one of the Apparation points. He grabs Malfoy's arm and twists on the spot, hearing a  _ crack _ as they reappear in Harry's living room.  Luna and Ron appear on either side of them.

"You can go back to my room and grab whatever clothes you want, that sweatshirt is the only thing I have with my name on it," Harry says. Malfoy nods and heads up the stairs. Ron's eyebrows raise slightly as he watches him go.

"He knows where your room is."

"Yeah, we slept in there last night." Harry glances up at Ron. "Don't give me that face, you know we weren't doing that."

Ron shrugs, grinning. "You never know, you could one day discover the joys of sex."

"I'd rather fight Voldemort again," Harry says with a dead serious face, before dissolving into laughter at the look Ron gives him.

"Alright," Luna says. "Game plan?"

*******************

Luna and Ron are ten feet away, watching them discreetly while having a conversation Harry can't hear. What they're talking about, he has no idea, but it doesn't particularly matter right now. Malfoy is sitting across from Harry, a scowl on his face to maintain image. Harry has a similar one.

After seven minutes, Malfoy stands and heads for the bathroom. Harry watches the door, and when a man stands and goes to the bathroom after Malfoy, Harry follows.

"Get off of me!" he hears Malfoy shout, and he rushes in to see the blonde yanking away from the man. _Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, birthmark under his right eye,_ Harry reminds himself for later.

"Malfoy is in my custody," he says coldly, pointing his wand at the man. "I'm taking him to the Aurors."

"He's a filthy Death Eater, and he deserves to die," the man growls.

Harry shrugs. "You think I don't know that? But this is my job. I have no incentive to give him to you or risk losing a suspect."

"No incentive, eh?" The man's eyes gleam. _Good_. "How about a trade?"

Harry waves his wand at Malfoy, and glowing blue bonds wind themselves around his wrists, a symbol of someone taken by the Aurors. Malfoy scowls at him, and Harry knows the nervousness in his eyes isn't about the idea of being traded; he's afraid the plan won't work.

"What could you possibly offer me?" Harry scoffs. "I have enough money to buy myself whatever I want, I don't want yours."

"How about an Auror?"

"Pardon?"

_"Hypothetically,_ if I knew the whereabouts of a missing Auror, would it be enough for you to give me that scum-sucking waste of space?"

"Are you talking about Auror Zabini?"

"Perhaps." The man grins, and Harry knows he thinks he's won.

"So you're a member of the Death Eater annihilation group," Harry murmurs. The man's smile fades a bit. He looks concerned.

"Is that a problem?"

"Far from," Harry laughs softly. "You wanna know why you haven't been found out yet? The Aurors are half-assing the investigation on you. You think we want Death Eaters on our streets? Hell no. You're doing our job for us. I've got more vacation days because of you." Harry grins at the man. "Of course, you kill people, so we have to pretend to be chasing you, but you're the least of our priorities right now, honestly."

The man positively lights up at that. "My leader will be pleased to hear that," he says.

Harry shrugs. "You can tell him when you're bringing me Blaise Zabini."

"So that's a yes for the deal?"

"Obviously. You think I want to keep this?" Harry gestures vaguely at where he knows Malfoy is still standing, bound to his spot. "Bring me the Auror, he's worth a hell of a lot more to us than a Death Eater."

The man disappears with a _pop,_ and Harry opens the bathroom door, gesturing at Luna and Ron before shutting it again and turning back to Malfoy. "You alright?"

Malfoy grins. "You're convincing."

"Part of the job," Harry sighs. "He'll be back any minute."

Malfoy nods, and they wait another two minutes before there's a _pop_ and the man from before shows up with another man and Blaise Zabini slumped over between them.

"He's alive, right?" Harry asks, making a face to hide his worry. "A dead Auror's no use to us."

"You're colder than we thought, Potter," the new man laughs. "Damn. Yeah, he's just Stunned."

"Give us the Death Eater," the first man says.

"Yeah." Harry grabs Malfoy's bonds and pulls him forward, reaching out for Blaise, who the second man hands him eagerly in favor of reaching out for Malfoy.

Harry kicks him in the chest and shouts "Ron!" 

Luna shoves the door open and grabs Malfoy and Blaise, pulling them away as Ron rushes in. He disarms the first man and Harry disarms the second before they both bind them with the same bonds that are on Malfoy.

Harry releases Malfoy from his bonds and the blonde relaxes, flashing him a small grin before his eyes flick back to the men on the floor.

The first man glares. "You lying, cheating son of a _bi-"_

"Ah ah," Ron says sweetly. "Anything you say can and will be used against you."

Harry snorts and gives a grateful smile to Luna and Malfoy.

"What a day!" he cheers. "Let's get breakfast!"


End file.
